


Kiss With a Fist

by Chaimera



Category: Being Human, Being Human (UK)
Genre: Abuse, Canonical Character Death, Gen, domestic abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-16
Updated: 2012-03-16
Packaged: 2017-11-02 01:20:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/363435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chaimera/pseuds/Chaimera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is the story of a girl, who fell in love with a boy and then she died.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kiss With a Fist

This is the story of a girl, who fell in love with a boy and then she died.

But the truth is Anna Clare Sawyer was dead long before her fiancée pushed her down the stairs. Before the move and before the new job, Owen had scared her on occasion. She could see the anger threatening to erupt just below the surface. However Annie loved Owen, and she knew that he loved her. She felt safe in the knowledge that as long as he loved her, he wouldn't hurt her, because that's not what people did to people they loved.

When they moved to Bristol it all changed. He had taken her away from her family, her friends. There was no one to question the occasional bruise or bump, the way she limped slightly, or that she favoured her left side.

When Annie got up early to make him breakfast, it wasn't so she could revel in the domesticity of it all, it was because the last time she didn't have breakfast ready she had to go out and buy new plates, wearing long sleeves to cover up the dark blotches in the shapes of fingers.

But Annie knew he loved her because he always kissed her softly when he left for work.

When she slaved over the cooker to get the boiled ham and parsley sauce just right, it wasn't because she knew it was his favourite, it was because when she had gotten it wrong, the bowl had hit the wall barely an inch away from her head.

But Annie knew he loved her because at night, when dinner was done, he clutched her tight and told her so.

When she wore ugg boots, and over sized jumpers, it wasn't because she was just a comfy, easy going person, it was because she didn't want Owen to think she was dressing like a slag or trying to attract other men.

But Annie knew he loved her because he put a ring on her finger and wanted to be with her, forever.

When she offered tea to everyone and made sure no one was ever without a fresh cup of their choice, it wasn't because she wanted to be the perfect hostess, it was because when she wasn't, she hit the wall so hard the pipes rattled.

But Annie knew he loved her.

And when she curled up in the over stuffed arm chair in the spare room, it wasn't because she was hiding from her husband to be. It wasn't.

So Anna Clare Sawyer died. She fell awkwardly down the stairs, landing on her back and cracking her skull on the black and white tile of the hall way and there she stayed. For over a year, Annie knew Owen loved her. Then slowly, Annie began to live. She laughed with her new friends and made tea and harassed poor pizza delivery men as a werewolf and a vampire watched with affection and amusement and she knew Owen loved her.

Until, one day, she didn't.

As Annie watched her fiancée, lover and murderer scurry away into the night, demented with fear, she came to several realisations. If it wasn't for the past year, she probably would still believe Owen had loved her. She also realised that she was truly loved. She was loved by a sarcastic Irish vampire and a squeaky, neurotic werewolf and a ghost who liked depressing 80's music.

This is the story of a girl who died and fell in love and was loved and lived.


End file.
